


it’s over, isn’t it?

by hexed_vexed



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Song fic, Steven Universe inspired, just not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 15:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18875875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexed_vexed/pseuds/hexed_vexed
Summary: He settled his gaze on the window again. Two silhouettes, though he couldn’t tell where one began and where the other ended. Pain prickled in his chest as he tore his eyes away, “...I’d lose.”or, that flower from ‘Damien’ makes a cameo.





	it’s over, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> song lyrics in italics  
> (it’s over, isn’t it? from su with some changed lyrics for the plotty reasons)

Damien pulled at his sleeves, making them seem stiff and unwrinkled. He waltzed carefully outside of the manor and onto the patio. Crickets were chirping and moonlight bathed the marble flooring. The mayor sighed heavily, his chest feeling heavy as he stopped at the railing.

He allowed his staff to fall onto the patio, clattering echoing across the shallow garden. Damien leaned his weight into the railing and looked out at the sea of green, flashes of red and gold tulips christening each bush.

It was well kept, as Mark’s manor usually was.

Without truly thinking, Damien reached into his breast pocket and brought a shell-pink flower into his field of vision. A smile played gingerly on his lips as he stroked the petals. Before he knew it, Damien was singing softly into the evening air.

“ _I was fine, with the hens, who would come into his life now and again,_ ” he whispered, voice sweet and somber.

“ _I was fine, because I knew that they didn’t really matter.”_

Damien paused, and spun on his heel. He looked up to see the light of someone’s room still peeking through the curtain. It was the Colonel’s; Damien had the manor mapped out in his memory, now.

“ _Until you,_ ” he continued, seeing the silhouette of a woman creep near the curtain.

“ _I was fine, when you came, and we fought like it was all some silly game_.” Damien heard himself scoff as he turned to pick up his cane again. He found himself walking down the wide steps into the garden.

It was almost funny, how he used to be so set on beating his sister in their competition. The prize was something great—someone great, more like—and both siblings were very sure of themselves.

‘William must have known,’ Damien thought as he tucked the pale pink flower back into his pocket and plucked a rose from a dying bush. ‘Why wouldn’t he? He was always bright, despite himself.’

Damien sang just above a whisper now. “ _Over him, who he’d choose. After all those years, I never thought…”_

He settled his gaze on the window again. Two silhouettes, though he couldn’t tell where one began and where the other ended. Pain prickled in his chest as he tore his eyes away, “ _...I’d lose.”_

“ _It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over?”_

Damien brought the rose to his nose and breathed, but his chest didn’t heave. He continued through the garden, allowing his hand to brush against a few stray stalks of lilacs.

“ _It’s over, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Isn’t it over? You won, and he chose you, and he loved you, he’s,”_ Damien threw the decaying rose to the lilacs, “ _gone.”_

He sang in a quieter voice, as if scared of his own words. _“It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on?”_

As if someone had flipped a switch, Damien felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. “ _War and glory, reinvention,”_ he twirled through the branches of a willow tree as if in a ballroom.

“ _Fusion, freedom, his attention._ ” The mayor’s business-suited shoes clicked against the stone path as he sang.

“ _Out in daylight, my potential_ ,” Damien thought of all of he proposed suitors. The women who flocked to his feet, tacky red polish and curled shining hair. He grimaced.

“ _Bold,”_ he tore off a petal from a tiger lily. “ _Precise,”_ Damien flicked a dash of pollen that had fallen onto his shoulder. “ _Experimental,_ ” he tucked the tiger lily petal into his breast pocket with the blushing bloom.

In a rush, Damien leapt onto the fountain in the middle of the garden. He wobbled slightly, but held his ground as he walked along its edge; cane now useless, he tossed it into the grass. Damien’s voice rose to a challenging volume.

“ _Who am I now? In this world, without him! Petty and dull with the nerve to doubt him_ ,” he cried, his slicked-back hair becoming wet along with his suit as he leaned backwards—uncaring—into the water.

“ _What does it matter? It’s already done!”_ Damien sank to the ground, pressing his back against the fountain as he fell. _“I’ve haven’t got to be there for an-y-one.”_

The garden fell quiet, only the sounds of crickets and flowing water to fill the void. Damien sighed, planting himself in the fountain, one leg hanging off the edge.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and he continued, voice shaking with rage, masked sadness. “ _It’s over! Isn’t it?! Isn’t it over?!_ ”

“ _It’s over! Isn’t it?! Isn’t it over?!”_

“ _You won!”_ He spat bitterly, staring off at the bedroom window. The lights in the room flickered off, leaving a vacant black void beyond the glass.

“ _And he chose you!”_ Damien turned away, fists clenched. “ _And he loved you!”_ He jerked the pale pink flower from his pocket and it fell into his shaking hand.

“ ** _And he’s gone!_ ** _”_ Damien closed his fist around the bloom and squeezed, his nails leaving irritated red indents in his skin. He screwed his eyes tight and tears spilled over his cheeks.

Slowly, Damien relented; his energy drained. His eyes fell open and so did his palm, to reveal the crippled petals of the flower. The one William had brought back from his adventures for him.

The tears began to roll over into his hand as he sang softly, timidly. “ _It’s over, isn’t it? Why can’t I move on?”_

Damien looked to the sky, constellations painting a dazzling portrait across the canvas of the night sky. “ _It’s over, isn’t it?”_ He sniffled, dropping his hands into the water. “ _Why, can’t I move… on?”_

**Author's Note:**

> i think i erased what the garden actually looked like? and kinda made my own?  
> also will be making a series where i add on to scenes of wkm until the timeline of damien :))
> 
> tumblr / wastefulpretexts


End file.
